


In Constant Motion

by TrexReach100



Category: Outsiders (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, The Outsiders 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6051838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrexReach100/pseuds/TrexReach100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where does the separation begin? At the refusal to adapt or at the fear that they will never be able to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Constant Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Another one about that damn bird

She thought about him, her mountain boy and brushed a finger feather-light across the slope of the wooden birds head.  Hasil was in constant motion, his teeth chewing at his gums, fingers knotting nervously in his shirt hem as he bounced alongside her.  How could someone like that, whose body vibrated with uncertainty sit so still and carve this tiny figurine? How did someone who looked as wild as he make something so simple and elegant? Perhaps it was an illustration of a boy in two parts.  In the mountains he was still, treading lightly over the forest floor barely breathing so as not to interrupt the birds singing above and the animals burrowing below.  Maybe when the wind shook the trees he stood with eyes closed listening to the conversation of the leaves letting himself bleed into his surroundings.  Perhaps up there where they practiced magic and brewed moonshine so strong a boy had killed his father after drinking it, where they sang and fought, maybe there was where Hasil found the peace he needed.  Down here he wore the town like a too small coat.  His arms jutting out beyond the sleeves, his shoulders drawn together to make it fit.  Down here where the street lights saturated everything in piss yellow light Hasil looked both nervous and excited.  Here was loud, close to too many unknowns and innumerable enemies.  He walked with confidence and a big ol' charming grin but Sally Ann could see through the thin mask to the uncertainty beneath.  It was amazing that a mountain man, the crazy hill billies who killed the villagers wandering too close, could look like they felt out of place.  She thought they were oblivious to the fear.  They rode into the store on quads and stole without hesitation, explanation or apology.  They hollered and growled at people who stared even when they begged for it.  Hasil had been with them commanding her to focus on him while they ransacked the place.  How could a person who came from stock that took from others with self assurance of their immunity feel afraid? Was it pack mentality? Safety in numbers, mob logic? The vindication provided by hate? It must have been one of those or all.

She pulled the bird into her palm, turned over in bed and set it on her chest right in the middle where her heart beat.  She should have said something when she saw him outside the restaurant.  but what could she have done? Tried to save him? The town's problems didn't begin and end with the Farrell's.  In the end she wouldn't have been so much a rescuer as someone who needed rescuing.  The police were afraid of the Farrell's and rightly so, but seeing the way Hasil's body jerked as volts of electricity seized his body she felt fear for him.  He wasn't a bad boy he was just drawn that way.  If she had turned up on time he would have been okay.  It was her fault in a round about way.  She couldn't control the risks he took, wouldn't adopt his actions as her responsibility but the next time he turned up she would go to him, show him that there were some people who didn't think they needed to be avoided and put down like feral dogs.  Hasil was a human being same as her with wants and desires and dreams and feelings.  He didn't even know how to read! Nobody was teaching him to communicate, not the state or his own people.  The least she could do was give him help with the first step.  Maybe then he wouldn't be afraid, maybe then she could tell someone about the mountain boy who thought she was prettier than a pop star and walked her home.  A boy who left wooden birds on her doorstep that made her smile as she fell asleep.


End file.
